


Untitled Porn 2

by Terrie



Series: Untitled Harrisco Porn [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossdressing, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrie/pseuds/Terrie
Summary: For 2018 Harriscofest prompt "That time they watched The Princess Bride."





	Untitled Porn 2

**Author's Note:**

> Let's be honest. No one is reading this based on the title anyway, so might as well make it blatant.

Harry likes to call the shots. Which is to be expected, because the guy is a serious Bossy McBossypants. It drives Cisco crazy, the way Harry can never let go of what he wants. At least in bed, what Harry wants is to drive Cisco crazy with pleasure. Cisco trusts Harry and is willing to follow his lead. Most of the time.

Cisco crosses his arms over chest and looks down at the bed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, not kidding.”

“Long hair doesn’t make me a girl. It doesn’t mean I want to look like a girl.” He glares at the skirt. A skirt and panties. Which, okay, boxers would look silly under that thing. It's a simple, straightforward black, but it's also lacy and loose. The kind of thing that would flounce around a girl's legs. Cisco does not flounce. The panties are a deep emerald green satin. They have lace. He swallows against the uneasy feeling that twists his stomach.

“I don't want you to look like a girl. I want…” Harry sighs. “It doesn't matter. I’m going to go make popcorn and put a movie on. Wear it. Don't wear it. Whichever you decide. Just join me when you're ready.”

Cisco glares at the thing on the bed. Part of him wants to kick it to the floor and go out as he is. The rest of him is stuck on the fact that this is something Harry asked for. Harry doesn't ask. Harry demands and then Cisco decides if he's going to allow it.

From the living room, Harry calls back, “How about The Princess Bride?”

And now bribery. Cisco grits his teeth and picks up the damned skirt. He is such a god-damned sucker. He pulls the thing on over his boxers. It comes to mid-thigh. The bottom edge of his boxers peeks out as he moves. He’d been right. It looks stupid. And he’s not about to go freeballing in a skirt.

He closes his eyes while he changes underwear. It’s childish, and he knows it’s childish, but he can’t help it. The panties end up being satiny slick against his skin. The lace is rougher, though not as scratchy as he would have expected. They’re snug, and he wiggles, trying to get them to sit more comfortably. The shift of the cloth over his skin is odd.

He forces his eyes open. He can see himself in the mirror over the dresser. He’s not sure what Harry was going for with the skirt. What he’s getting is Cisco’s knobbly knees. He tries to find a way to stand that doesn’t make his legs look stupid before he gives it up as a lost cause. 

What he wants to do is change back into his boxers and jeans. What he does is take a deep breath and force himself out of the bedroom and into the living room. Harry enters from the kitchen just as Cisco enters from the hall. Harry stops in the doorway and stares.

Cisco scratches at the back of his neck, a nervous gesture made worse by the fact that he knows it's a nervous gesture. “Way to make a guy feel self-conscious.”

“You look…” Harry chews at his lower lip. “You look good.”

“Dude, we both know I look ridiculous.”

“Not from where I’m standing.” There's a gruffness to his voice that has Cisco almost believing him. It might have convinced him if he hadn't seen for himself what he looks like. Harry gestures to the couch. “Well? The movie isn't going to watch itself.”

Cisco plops down on the couch. He starts to swing his feet up onto the coffee table, before he catches sight of his bare legs and plants his feet firmly on the floor. Harry drops the bowl of popcorn in Cisco's lap. Cisco grabs a handful to stop his hands from tugging at the edge of the skirt. Harry settles in next to him and drops a hand on his bare knee.

Cisco freezes.

Harry's palm is warm against his bare skin, matched by the sudden flush of heat across his face. Harry leans across him and grabs the remote with his free hand, unconcerned or oblivious to the turmoil he's thrown Cisco into. Harry’s thumb pauses over the buttons. “You want anything to drink?”

“No.” It comes out in a half-strangled high pitch. Cisco clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“You sure?” At Cisco's bobble-headed nod, Harry shrugs. He hits play and drops the remote on the coffee table. His hand never leaves Cisco's knee.

Cisco focuses on the movie. He manages until the first “As you wish” when Harry's fingers start to trace the edges of his kneecap. They circle first clockwise and then back the other direction. The touch is firm enough that it doesn’t tickle. It still makes him want to squirm.

By Buttercup’s kidnapping, he has himself back under control. It’s nice, the warmth of Harry’s skin against his. Relaxing, even. When Buttercup is nearly killed by the shrieking eels, Harry slides his hand up Cisco’s leg. A squeak comes out of Cisco’s mouth. Harry turns half an eye towards him. “Problem?”

“No.” Cisco keeps his eyes locked on the TV screen. Not that anything there actually registers. He’s seen this movie one hundred times, but he has no idea what’s happening right now. The brush of fingers against the hair on his inner thigh tickles. His foot twitches. “Harry…”

“Hmmm?” Harry's hand slides higher, and he tugs at the edge of the skirt.

“Nothing.” He focuses on breathing, in and out, slow and steady through his nose. Harry rolls the fabric of the skirt between his fingers. In. Out. In. Out. Harry release the edge of the skirt and returns his fingers to Cisco’s leg. He traces circles and other shapes into his skin. Cisco closes his eyes. In. Out. In. Out. And then Harry stops.

Cisco's eyes fly open. On the screen, the Dread Pirate Roberts matches off against Inigo. Harry’s hand is fixed in its place on Cisco's leg. Harry cocks his head to one side. All in black, he looks like a predatory bird. “Are you even watching the movie?”

“I need you to touch my dick,” Cisco blurts out.

“Do you?” His fingers flex but come no closer. He leans in, his tongue running along his teeth behind parted lips.

“Your hand. Your mouth. God, if I hadn't blown you in the shower earlier, I’d tell you to fuck me.” He arches his back, trying to get Harry's hand closer to where he wants it, but it stays exactly where it is. “C’mon.”

“Hush.” Harry moves from his seat at Cisco's side to sitting across from him, perched on the edge of the coffee table. He places his hands on top of Cisco's knees and, with a gentle grip, pulls them apart. Harry doesn't break eye contact as one hand slides beneath the skirt.

Cisco can't see what Harry's doing, but he can feel it. Fingers trace the lace along the edge of the panties. The panties Cisco hates not only because they look stupid, but they’re in the way. He wants flesh on flesh. Instead, Harry’s fingers slide over the slick surface of the satin. It’s good, but not enough. It’s the kind of thing Harry hates, but Cisco can’t stop himself from grabbing Harry’s arm to hold it in place and thrusting into his hand.

It’s everything he wants. Until Harry shakes his arm loose and pulls back. Cisco forces his eye open to look at Harry, though he doesn’t remember closing them. The look on Harry’s face is amused. “Needy, aren’t you?”

“For you?” Cisco says. “Always.”

The hand comes back to rub the outside of Cisco’s leg. Which is not nearly close enough to where it needs to be. “Well, who am I to deny you?”

“You do it all the time!” Cisco would laugh if he wasn’t so horny. “I think making me suffer turns you on.”

“Have you ever not enjoyed yourself?” Which Cisco notices is not a denial. Instead, Harry slides from the coffee table to the floor. He looks up at Cisco and grins. “For instance, I think you’ll enjoy this.”

He pulls Cisco’s knees further apart and leans in. His tongue over satin is interesting. Different from the times Harry has mouthed him through his cotton boxers. He wants more and tilts his hips, pushing towards the wet heat of Harry’s mouth. Harry plants a kiss on the inside of his thigh. “I’ve got you.”

He reaches up and works the panties down off Cisco’s hips. Then, finally, there’s nothing in the way when Harry leans in to take Cisco in his mouth. Cisco lets his eyes flutter shut, lets the sounds around him fade, and gives himself over to feeling of Harry’s mouth on his flesh. Harry, who know his body well enough that he can make it do whatever he wants.

What Harry wants, apparently, is to make every nerve in Cisco’s body draw tight with pleasure. He has to fight not to take more. Harry’s made it clear that’s against tonight’s rules. The fight makes it hard to breathe, the muscles of his stomach pulled taut. Harry holds him there, at that point between pleasure and pain, for a long moment, before clever fingers push him over the edge into his release.

Cisco is still shuddering through the aftershocks when Harry rises up on his knees, captures Cisco’s face in his hands and kisses him. He kisses as he does all things, with absolute commitment. When he pulls back, Cisco is left gasping. “I take it you like how I look in a skirt.”

“You look good no matter what you wear. It’s what I can do to you in the skirt.” Harry runs his palms up the still sensitive skin of Cisco’s thighs. Cisco hisses, pulling back from the too-much sensation. Harry looks smug. “Just like that.”

“And the panties?”

Harry shrugs. “I just liked the color.”


End file.
